


this is it (the kind of dream that will never come true)

by ivermectin



Category: Gossip Girl (TV 2007)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Casual Sex, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, POV Nate Archibald, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:13:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26861194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivermectin/pseuds/ivermectin
Summary: It's not like he doesn't like women, far from it, women are lovely, but there's something about the way Chuck is sitting in his chair that makes Nate want to do terrible things to him. Or have Chuck do terrible things to him. Or do terrible things with him.
Relationships: Nate Archibald/Chuck Bass
Comments: 12
Kudos: 38





	this is it (the kind of dream that will never come true)

**Author's Note:**

> yes, gossip girl fanfiction written by yours truly in 2020. i gotta survive this pandemic somehow.  
> timeline wise, i'm not sure when this takes place. it could go anywhere, depending on how much or how little you care about canon.

_You've had sex with every girl there is,_ Nate wants to say, as he watches Chuck lean back, comfortable in the way that comes with the sort of luxury that nobody can take away, leaning back in the chair in a way that makes Nate stare at his shoulders, at the way they indent the velvet, the tiny half smile that's almost a habit, his body language aggressive in a way that's almost polite. _You radiate sex appeal,_ Nate thinks. And he knows what his next thought should be, it should be _can you teach me how to do that, how to make people look at you,_ but instead, his next thought is of what it would mean, really mean, to have Chuck in his space, his hands on Nate's neck, fiddling with his tie, pulling at him, his legs pressed against Nate's, no, better yet, straddling him, his mouth on Nate's neck, and then the way he always said Nate's name, never calling him Nate, only ever calling him -

"Nathaniel," Chuck drawls, his voice raspy and heavy like velvet and monsoon. He raises an eyebrow, gives Nate a look. Almost as if he's asking, _see something you like_? 

Nate doesn't want to be like this - doesn't know what the family will do, if the only Archibald son turns out gay. It's not like he doesn't like women, far from it, women are lovely, but there's something about the way Chuck is sitting in his chair that makes Nate want to do terrible things to him. Or have Chuck do terrible things to him. Or do terrible things with him.

"You," Nate begins. Swallows. He needs to be a public speaker. Blair would say he's a Vanderbilt; it's in his blood. 

Blair would kill him, if she learnt that he'd rather make love to his best friend than to her. 

He wouldn't mind dying like that; caught in a lie, because he decided to be honest. Not that it counts. Not that any of it means anything.

"I?" Chuck prompts. His expression hasn't changed much, to someone who doesn't know him, but Nate knows him, and Nate knows that Chuck is concerned now. "What about me?" 

"You've had sex with so many girls," Nate says. He is entirely too sober for this conversation.

"And I can help _you_ have sex with many girls, as well," Chuck says evenly. "I have a few numbers you can call," and he reaches inside his jacket, pulling out a business card, and Nate swats his hands away, letting the card fall to the floor, holding Chuck's gaze.

"I don't want a girl," he says, and he leans over, angling his body against Chuck's as if wanting to shield him from a bullet. "I want you." 

Chuck gets with the rhythm surprisingly quickly, his hands finding Nate's waist like he's done this so many times before (and he has, just not with Nate, and Nate knows this, but the way Chuck feels on his body feels like they've known each other as lovers for a long, long time) and he pulls Nate against him. Nate angles his mouth upwards, kissing Chuck fiercely, as if trying to prove he's in love with him, and Chuck grabs his ass, untucks Nate's shirt and puts his hands up, against his skin. 

"You are going to be so ruined when I'm done with you," Chuck says, low, sinister, threatening, and impossibly sexy.

"Oh, I am already," Nate says, feeling like his body is made entirely of electricity.

He shifts, pressing forward, pushing his hips up against Chuck's, letting his hands find Chuck's shoulder blades, letting himself melt into Chuck as he begins to shakily remove his best friend's shirt, and begins to kiss the skin of his chest. Chuck, as if not to be outdone, undoes Nate's pants and puts his hands into his briefs, one hand shifting around his dick, fingers curling gently around his hard length, the other hand moving to the puckered rim of his asshole, not penetrating or opening him up, but idly circling his rim instead. Nate curls into Chuck's touch, sucks at his nipples, and revels at how Chuck's gasps become soft moans. 

His body's full of sensation, heavy like a live wire, but he puts his mouth everywhere he can, licking Chuck's neck, kissing his cheek, peppering him with hickeys. Chuck does something with his hand, and Nate comes, and as he slouches against Chuck he watches as Chuck slicks his dick with Nate's own come before stroking up and down, his breath slowly becoming irregular.

 _I love you,_ Nate wants to say, but he knows better than to say it. He watches, instead, as Chuck comes. 

"If my parents could see me now, they'd hire a hitman," he says to Chuck, and he isn't sure whether he's joking.

"I wouldn't let them touch you," Chuck says, in response. He gets a handkerchief out of his trouser pocket and hands it to Nate, before getting another handkerchief out of his other pocket and cleaning himself up. "But you understand, this can't happen again. It was a little experiment, nothing more." 

"Of course," Nate says, even though his mind is thinking, _kiss me, kiss me, kiss me._

"Nathaniel," Chuck says, gently. "You like girls. You have to like girls. It's important that you like girls. Okay?" 

It is very much not okay.

"Okay," Nate says. He resists the urge to kiss Chuck again, walks outside.

He wants to lose his virginity to Chuck Bass; to go all the way. 

It is beginning to rain, and he wants to walk home in the downpour. He wants to be damp with the rain, alive, young, free.

He opens the limo door, sits in the back.

**Author's Note:**

> ~~  
>  i don't even LIKE chuck bass  
>  ~~


End file.
